


A Knockout

by hearteating



Category: ALL OUT!! - Amase Shiori (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Affection, Crossdressing, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearteating/pseuds/hearteating
Summary: Maybe doing a maid cafe wasn't such a good idea. Not when Sekizan looks like that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkmeme prompt: Sekizan being very muscular and demure in a maid's outfit and Hachiouji being very into that.

He’d brought this on himself, really. There had been, Hachiouji reflected, many opportunities where he could have said something and avoided this whole situation.

He could have insisted that they play the usual rugby game at the cultural festival, despite the fact that they’d failed to drum up any interest for the past two years, instead of agreeing to do something different. He could have come up with his own idea, rather than ask everyone to write down their own.

Failing that, he at least could have put the suggestions to a vote rather than agreeing that the club would do whichever suggestion Sekizan picked out of his helmet.

A maid’s café. He was going to murder whoever put that in. If he didn’t die first. If Sekizan didn’t kill him first.

Sekizan, who, as captain, had volunteered himself to dress as a maid in order to quell the grumbling of the boys who’d drawn the short straw. Sekizan, who at this very moment was wearing a knee-length dress, complete with a ribbon at his throat, white socks, and a matching ruffled pinafore and cap. The way the dress strained against his chest and shoulders should have looked ridiculous, but Hachiouji couldn’t stop looking. Equally as distracting was the way Sekizan’s familiar habit of clasping his wrist now seemed demure, rather than awkward, and his blushes as other students commented on the rugby club’s costumes were enchanting.

It really was ridiculous. Their rugby clothes were tighter and showed way more skin. He’d seen Sekizan naked on multiple occasions, both before and after they’d started their thing. And yet Hachiouji hadn’t had more than the usual number of dirty thoughts about their uniforms, and he’d had nothing but dirty thoughts since Sekizan had finished dressing two hours ago.

He was glad to be on cooking duty, where any side effects that arose from his fantasies—bending Sekizan over and flipping up his skirts to fuck him; sucking Sekizan off in that outfit; watching Sekizan spread his legs and get himself off, coming all over the crisp black and white—would be hidden. He could still see Sekizan where the door was cracked open, and when he came to pick up orders, but he could also lose himself in preparing food in between.

Finally, the shift was over. The boys who had been working as maids all ran off to change into regular clothes—except Sekizan.

“Taku, aren’t you going to change?” Raita asked. Sekizan looked down at himself.

“It’s fine,” he said, and began stacking chairs. Raita laughed and Hachiouji smiled, his jaw tight. He tried to concentrate on wiping down tables, sweeping the floor, helping Ume-chan pack up leftovers—anything but looking at Sekizan. The upside of there being so many of them meant that it at least didn’t take very long before they were done. The team went their separate ways, Ebumi loudly threatening to kill anyone who’d taken any pictures of him in his maid’s uniform.

Then it was just him and Sekizan.

“Here,” Hachiouji said, and handed Sekizan one of the leftover crepes. Sekizan’s face lit up. He perched himself on one of the tables and began to eat it, making the occasional noise of content. Absently, he scratched at his thigh, hiking up the skirt and revealing the tan skin above his white socks.

Hachiouji had had enough. He moved to stand in front of Sekizan, cupping his jaw. He leaned in and kissed him, smiling against Sekizan's mouth when he felt Sekizan's hands come to rest on his waist. He kissed him again. Sekizan tasted sweet, and this close he smelled like powdered sugar and soap and sweat.

“You look really good as a maid,” Hachiouji said, breaking away. Sekizan looked down.

“It's just a dress,” he said. Hachiouji sighed.

“It looks really good,” he repeated, and put his hands on Sekizan's thighs. He moved his hands up slowly, hiking the skirt up as he went. “Where did you even get these socks?” he asked. They were tight around Sekizan's thighs, and at the top were nearly sheer against his muscles.

“Umeno got them for me,” Sekizan replied, less interested in the socks than in making out. He slipped his hands under Hachiouji's shirt and leaned close to kiss his neck. Hachiouji finally reached Sekizan's hips, the skirt now rucked up around his waist to reveal dark briefs and his half-hard cock. He tilted his neck to the side to allow Sekizan better access and considered the sight before him. He moved a hand to palm Sekizan's erection, and was rewarded with a jerk of the hips, a groan, and Sekizan's hands tightening around his hips, strong fingers digging into the top of his ass.

“Turn around.” Sekizan raised his eyebrows but slid off the desk and turned so his back was facing Hachiouji. His own desires were pretty simple, and he'd probably be happy making out and exchanging handjobs forever, but he was always willing to give Hachiouji's suggestions a chance. Hachiouji felt a surge of affection and leaned in to kiss between his shoulder blades. He rucked up the maid dress again, pushing the material to the front. “Can you hold this?”

Hachiouji took a step back to admire the view. The black fabric stretched tight against Sekizan's impressive shoulders and back; the white bow of his pinafore emphasized his waist and was positioned nicely above his ass, which looked good as always in dark briefs; the strong lines of his thick legs in the white socks.

“You're beautiful,” he murmured, stepping back in. Sekizan's head ducked in embarrassment. “And you're terrible at taking compliments.” Hachiouji kissed his shoulder and hooked his thumbs into Sekizan's underwear, pulling it halfway down his thighs to keep his legs together. Then he quickly undid his trousers and tugged them down, breathing a sigh of relief.

“OK?” he asked. Sekizan turned his head and nodded.

“Yes.”

Hachiouji guided his erection to the top of Sekizan's thighs and pressed forward. Sekizan's muscles tightened in surprise, and Hachiouji moaned at the hot flex around his cock.

“OK?” he asked again, his voice strained. Sekizan flexed his thighs again and Hachiouji gasped and dropped his head heavily between Sekizan's shoulders.

“Yes,” replied Sekizan, a bit smug. Hachiouji narrowed his eyes and slid back a little before thrusting forward once more, making sure his cock dragged along Sekizan's balls as he did so. Sekizan's breath caught and he braced his free hand on the desk to steady himself. Hachiouji grinned.

“Everything all right, Sekizan?” he asked as he did it again. Sekizan groaned and flexed his thighs in retaliation. They both laughed, breathlessly, and Hachiouji slid his arms around Sekizan's waist, covering the hand holding up Sekizan's dress with his own.

He kept thrusting into the tight heat between Sekizan's legs. It got easier as sweat and precome slicked the way, and between Sekizan flexing his thighs and his smell and the breathy moans he made, it wasn't long until Hachiouji came with a drawn-out groan. He squeezed Sekizan's waist and peppered the section of back in front of him with kisses. After a few moments Sekizan shifted uncomfortably.

“Hachiouji?”

Hachiouji released his hold on him.

“Turn around, Sekizan; I'll take care of you.” Sekizan obliged. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes dark, and Hachiouji couldn't resist kissing him again. “You can let go of the dress now,” he said against Sekizan's mouth. Sekizan looked down, like he'd forgotten he was even holding it. Possibly he had. Sekizan tended to get lost in things. He unclenched his hand, letting the skirts fall back down around his legs. Hachiouji dropped to his knees. He lifted the hem of the dress high. Sekizan was hard, and come leaked down the front of his thighs, dripping onto his briefs and staining his socks. It was a good look, thought Hachiouji proudly. Then he leaned forward and took Sekizan's cock into his mouth, dropping the skirt over his head as he did so, leaving him in the warm dark.

A moment later the light returned, along with Sekizan's frowning face.

“I want to see you,” he said. Hachouji pulled off and smiled up at him.

“I know,” he replied. “But just this once, please?” Sekizan pouted. Hachiouji just looked at him. After a moment, Sekizan huffed.

“All right.” He dropped the skirt back over Hachiouji's head. Hachiouji kissed the crease of his thigh in thanks, and took him into his mouth once more. Giving head like this was different. The heat and scent of Sekizan's body were trapped by the fabric, stronger. It made the other sensations-- taste and texture and Sekizan's muffled moans-- seem stronger, although he missed the feel of Sekizan's hands in his hair.

Sekizan was so worked up that it wasn't long before he tensed and came. Hachiouji gently circled his thumbs on Sekizan's hips as he worked Sekizan through his orgasm. Then he sat back, tugging the hem of the dress over his head and back down.

“Good?” he asked. Sekizan smiled dopily at him and nodded. Hachiouji laughed and stood up. He took Sekizan's hand, turning his head when Sekizan leaned down so the kiss landed on his ear. “Let's go get you cleaned up. Gion will probably be looking for us, demanding we take the team for ice cream.” Sekizan wrinkled his nose and Hachiouji laughed again.

He was glad he hadn't stopped the team from doing a maid cafe, after all.


End file.
